


The Band of Fools and the Pilgrim

by ChaoticEcho



Category: Octopath Traveler, Project Octopath Traveler (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Conflict Resolution, Exposition, F/M, Family, First Meetings, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Meeting, Octopath Traveller - Freeform, Prologue, Slow Burn, Some Canon/Timeline Divergence, Team Bonding, Team as Family, Trust, Trust Issues, just because theres so damn much in this game, mostly canon, will probably spiral into a series of vignettes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-18
Updated: 2018-07-19
Packaged: 2019-05-24 18:22:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14959752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChaoticEcho/pseuds/ChaoticEcho
Summary: A leashed thief chews at his collar and disturbs his neighbor.  Re-imagining of Ophilia and Therion's meeting since the prologue skimps giving the characters any kind of meaningful meetups.  Therion-centric.





	1. The Band of Fools and the Pilgrim

After rubbing his best file raw and trying to devise any method he can think of to pry at the locking mechanism hugging the inside of his wrist, Therion is finally forced to admit that the ugly grey band—his mark of disgrace—isn’t coming off.  At least… not without taking the wrist with it.  An unpleasant thought to consider.  Yet here he is, considering…   
  
He grits his teeth, clenching and unclenching the fist he would stand to lose.  Even strategically breaking the wrist to get the Thieves’ Blunder loose could leave his hand permanently crippled.  As bad as wearing this shameful manacle is, it still doesn’t seem worth losing his dominant hand over.  His livelihood would permanently suffer for it.     


After his “victory” and Heathcote’s proposition, he returned to the Inn for the night and holed up in his room for this multi-hour, failed-jailbreaking session.  Though initially agreeing to the terms set forth by the butler, he has since tried everything he can to slip out of this fetter and his obligation.  Being Lady Ravus’s hired dog.  Sent out to fetch lost trinkets for her…   The job is more humiliating than the fool’s band itself.  Like hell he’s willing to get her precious stones back.   
  
But if there are no more viable alternatives…  
  
Therion loudly groans and picks the file back up, sawing away at the spot he tried to make a chink in earlier. After several angry strokes it slips along the curve of the bangle and the pointed tip stabs him in the palm.   
  
“ **FUCK!** ” He quickly drops the metal tool.  It clatters to the ground while he clenches his fist tight, muffling another scream of pain and frustration before slamming it down on the one rickety table furnishing the room.  Therion sinks into his chair and sits there for several long moments.  Reigning himself in.  Fighting back the urge to let loose another flurry of swears while his palm throbs.  Gradually, the pain dies back.  The skin isn’t broken, but when he unclenches his hand an angry red welt greets him.    
  
“ _Fuck.”_   He mutters again, quieter but just as emphatic.   
  
Suddenly there’s a knock at the door.   
  
_Great.  What now?_

Sitting up with a grunt he makes his way over, dagger drawn behind his back.  Not that Therion really expects trouble.  More likely just the innkeep or one of his new _friends_ checking in, so he thinks.  But when the door is thrust open wide he finds neither.  Instead, a noblewoman—no, not quite—a woman of the cloth peers at him with surprise written over her face.  He threw open the door rather brusquely.  Her simple white robes and cowl are of fine make but too plain for true nobility.  Why has a clergywoman come calling on him?   
  
_“What?”_   He growls.  
  
The woman—Ophilia—jolts a bit.  She had been opening her mouth to speak before he irritably cut across her.  “P-pardon me…  I just couldn’t help but overhearing…  I am in the next room over, you see—”  
  
“Then clamp your pillow over your ears and mind your own business.” He dismisses the noise complaint shortly, starting to close the door.   
  
“Ah!  Wait!” She shoves the staff she is carrying between the door and its frame, temporarily preventing him.  Therion opens back up but the dirty look he gives makes clear that he is in no mood.  _“What?”_ The thief snarls with even more emphasis than last time.   
  
“Sorry!  It just sounded like…  maybe you were hurt? You’ve been groaning for a while, and then the yell…”  
  
The door starts to close again.   
  
“I’m a cleric!  I know a bit about healing.  I just wanted to offer you some aid if you—”  
  
The door shuts resolutely in her face.   
  
Ophilia stares sadly the spot where Therion disappeared.  Discouraged, but not yet down and out she calls through the wood.  “I am well versed in healing and light magicks.  If you change your mind, I’ll be right down the ha—EEP!”  The door is suddenly thrown back open in front of her.  Before she can get another word out, Therion grabs the girl by the broach of her cowl and pulls her inside.   
  


* * *

  
A few minutes later Ophilia drops her hands from the thick band attached to Therion’s wrist and sighs.  “I am afraid this is beyond my ability.”  
  
Therion grunts.  Figures.  At the word of light magic, he brought the woman (who introduced herself as Ophilia) in to see if she could unlock or otherwise remove the band on his wrist.  Another dead end…  
  
“But I wouldn’t give up hope…” she continues, trying to break through his gloom “there are many others in this world more skilled in the mystic arts.  If you seek them out, I am sure one of them will be able to remove it.  Were I in your position, I would search in Atlasdam or… perhaps Noblecourt.  Of the scholars there, at least one will know a way to get it off.  I am sure of it.”   
  
Therion certainly isn’t.  But the proposal is not without its merits.  If he is going to go tracking down these dragonstones, he’ll be on the road anyway…  might as well try his luck.   
  
Ophilia is still eyeing his wrist and the ugly, painful looking chafe marks that the band has been making.  She knows what it is.  At least…  she knows that it is a punishment.  And not something one typically finds cuffed on upstanding people.  Still, it is the doctrine of the church to guide all to Aelfric’s light.  None of his children are blameless of wrongdoing.  It would be wrong to turn a blind eye to this man’s suffering regardless of what he may have done.  “Please…  at least allow me to soothe your pain…  I have something in my room that may help.”  
  
Therion grunts again, not really agreeing or disagreeing.  He’s too caught up pondering his next move, barely noticing when Ophilia leaves and comes back with a small roll of bandages.  He only takes notice again when the woman gently tugs his arm out and places her hand over it once more.  Quickly, the earlier discomforts Therion felt melt away.  When the once-irritated flesh resumes its normal color, she takes the wrappings and swathes his forearm, carefully covering underneath the fetter so as to diminish its abrasiveness.  Ophilia doesn’t take her eyes off her work, but Therion studies her while she busies herself with the task.  With a habit of quickly sizing people up for their valuables, he certainly didn’t miss the unique lantern hanging on a chain at her side.  Though not particularly ornate, he has never seen another like it.  And certainly nothing like the eerie blue light that dances so mesmerizingly within.  “That’s…  Aelfric’s flame.  Isn’t it?  You’re from his church in Flamesgrace”  he surmises.   
  
“That’s right.”  Ophilia smiles warmly, just glad to hear something out of him other than orders and grumbling.  “The cathedral has been my home all my life.”  
  
Interesting.  “So, what brings you to Bolderfall?  Not the dazzling scenery or charming locals I would have to imagine.” Therion keeps his voice light so as not to seem overly curious.   
  
That gets a soft giggle out of her.  “No, no.  Nothing like that.  I’m just passing through.”  She considers briefly whether or not to say more.  The thief doesn’t miss her hesitation.   
  
Finally, she seems to decide better of something.  “I am on a sacred pilgrimage—the Kindling--a rite undertaken only once every twenty years.  I must bear the First Flame from my home to Saintsbridge and Goldshore, renewing the flames in these churches across the land.  It is my great honor, and burden.”  
  
Therion’s eye not covered by his crop of wispy hair widens slightly.  “That does sound like quite the task.  ….You sure you’re up to it?”   She doesn’t strike him much like the adventuring type.  “Dangerous for a woman to travel the vasts of Orsterra all alone.”  
  
“Ah…  you are correct.  But fear not!  I do not go alone.  Aelfric’s followers, his children, are spread throughout the land.  One of the faithful from Flamesgrace helped to escort me here, though has since turned back.  At the moment I am in search of a new companion to travel with to my next destination in the riverlands.  And besides, Aelfric’s flame guides my path.  With these to watch over me, I am never truly alone.”  
  
“Great.”  Therion replies sarcastically.  “Sounds like you’re well off then.”  He pulls his bandaged arm away from her and inspects the finished handiwork.  The thief doesn’t really buy into all that sacred light mumbo jumbo.  No guiding flame has ever lit his path.  “Guess you’d better hurry and go rest up for your big journey.”  He could snatch the lantern off of her now but thinks better of it.  With something like that, she’d definitely wise up to it missing pretty quick.  Besides…  even if it might be valuable to the right buyer, too conspicuous.  Too likely to get authorities really riled.  Best just leave the tantalizing blue light be for the time being.  “Don’t let me keep you.  Off you go.”  He ushers Ophilia towards the door.  
  
“Aah!  But I don’t have to leave so soon,” Ophilia flusters as he takes her arm and leads her out, “I mean what about you?  I haven’t even gotten your—”  
  
The door to his room slams shut behind her the moment she is out in the hall.  
  
“—name….”  Ophilia trails off as the lock clicks.  She stares at the darkened frame for several moments longer before sighing and making her way back to her own quarters.  At least she was able to help take the stranger’s pain away.  That was her goal, was it not?  But as she settles in for the night and slips into bed she can’t help but feel disappointment at the abruptness of their parting.  At the very least, all is quiet next door now.  Therion sits on the window sill of his room, rubbing his new bandages pensively as he stares at the silhouette of Ravus manor perched atop the cliffs.  
  
“Damn nobles…” once again entrapping the common folk in their personal schemes.  But as much outrage at this indignity that he wants to turn on Cordelia Ravus, the true fault lies with none but him.  He was so eager for his next mark… so overweening with regard to his ability to carry out the heist that he got careless.  It’s a lesson he should have learned by now.  It is a lesson that should have been drilled into him a long time ago…  
  
“The ensnared has only himself to blame…right?” he mutters at his pale reflection in the moonlit glass.  No more moping.  This isn’t going to beat him.  One way or another this accursed manacle is coming off.   
  
Tomorrow, he sets out.   
  


* * *

 

##  **End of Chapter**


	2. Outset

 

The next morning, Therion is up before the sun is.  He takes a pre-dawn stroll around Bolderfall, but leisure is the farthest thing from the thief’s mind as he pokes around shopkeeps setting up store and stall for the day.  Food, spare clothes, tools, anything he might need that is not fastened down tightly is quick to disappear.  After looting the town, he also skulks his way back up to the Ravus manor.   Therion lifts all he can off of Lady Cordelia’s guards.  She IS the one commissioning this venture, after all.  The least she can do is share in the operational costs.  At least that’s what Therion tells himself as he tests the weight of a freshly snatched coin purse.  But from the slightly-too-wide grin he wears, it would be clear to anyone watching that he took more personal satisfaction from those robberies.   
  
By the time he is finishing up, day has broken.  The last thing Therion swipes on his way out of town is a little bit of breakfast in the form of an apple to see him down the road. When he slips through the market square, business is in full swing.  Vendors enthusiastically hawk their wares to passersby, but few pay heed to the willowy thief.  His dull attire and tattered mantle hardly make him stand out.  Just the way he likes it.  This is where he is most in his element—just another nobody in the crowd.  A fleeting shadow, there one moment and gone the next.  The familiar routine of gliding through traffic puts him, perhaps, a bit too much at ease..   
  
After all….  he almost didn’t notice he was being followed.   
  
He clears the thickest of the crowd, intent on losing his tails.  Therion is almost at the end of the stalls when he sees a familiar face.   Off to the side of the last shopfront in the line is his late-night visitor from yesterday.   What was her name again?  Did she ever even tell him?  While he wracks his brain trying to remember, the girl across the street is busy trying to flag down anyone she can.

  
“Please…  I’m looking for—ack…”  She clasps her hands to her breast as a group quickens their pace to be past her.  “S-sorry, if I could have just a moment of your time, I’m looking for a travel companion—oh….”  People are quick to clear the way around the unwanted solicitor.   
  
Vaguely he recalls her mentioning this to him before—looking for a new travel partner.  Where was she off to, again?  Somewhere far.  All for her pilgrimage.  The strange lantern she bears still shines bright blue, almost white at her side.  Therion smirks.  She’s in the wrong town to try to get someone to tag along for her little religious quest.  Bolderfall really _isn’t_ any kind of tourist attraction.  What little foot traffic they get in and out of town isn’t going to want to make any detours for her either.   
  
About that time, Ophilia’s scanning gaze finds him.  The two lock eyes.  Before she can make a move, he quickly turns and starts back towards the gates.  
  
“Hey!  Wait!”   
  
“Oh _great_ …”  
  
Her footfalls quickly catch up behind him and in a moment she’s at his side.  “Hey!”   
  
Her eyes are a warm, inviting shade of caramel. With just the barest hints of green.  He didn’t notice before in the low candlelight.   
  
“There you are, neighbor!  I never caught your name last night.  I’m Ophilia.”  She offers her hand, only to have Therion brushes past it.  He continues walking, but blondie doesn’t take the hint.  “How are you feeling?  Your arm, I mean.  I hope the bandages helped.”  
  
“It’s fine.”  He tucks the arm in question self-consciously behind his serape.  Her abrupt cheerfulness is already grating on his nerves.  “You seem busy.  Don’t let me keep you.”  
  
“It’s alright!  I’m not really.  So far I haven’t had much luck finding anyone heading south to escort me.  Say…  are you from around here?  Mister….”  
  
“…Therion,”  he reluctantly gives her name.  “What if I am?”  
  
“Mister Therion!  Would you happen to know anyone who might allow me to hitch a cart ride with them?  It doesn’t even have to be to the south.  Just to the next town over would be fine!”  
  
He stops in his tracks and turns to her.  They’re the same height, so the motion puts them eye to eye.  “Look.  _Sister_.  If you’re REALLY interested in getting someone to travel with you, your best bet is to wait by the gate.  But I’ll warn you now, travelers in these parts are pretty scarce.  If you want to go anywhere quickly, you’re probably going to have to go on your own.  Well…” he stops himself, sizing her up.  “Not that I’d recommend it for a delicate snowflower like you.”   
  
“Hey!”  She puffs her cheeks indignantly,  “I’m not that delicate…  You might be surprised how well I can look after myself.   
  
The doubt is written plain on his face.  Ophilia bristles up for another retort but he waves her off before she can get the words out.  “Alright, sure, sure.  Either way, the road to the next town will be treacherous.  There are plenty of monsters roaming these parts.”  He starts moving towards the gate again.  Once more, Ophilia follows.   
  
“Well what about you?” she hedges.  
  
“What _about_ me?”   
  
“You’re headed towards the gate.  Are you leaving town?”  
  
Oh here we go.  “Yes.”  
  
“Then we could—”  
  
“Nope.  Not a chance.”  
  
That stops her dead.  “You won’t let me go with you?  But…  but why….”  The woman visibly deflates.   “We could help each other out…”  
  
“Simple.  I have _no_ interest in travelling with you.” He deadpans.  “But no worries.  After all, you’ve got that sacred flame to guide your path, right?  I’m sure you’ll be juuuust fine.  Happy trails, Sister.”  He waves without turning around.  Soon, the forlorn-looking priestess disappears behind him.  When he’s sure he’s no longer being tailed, at least not by her, Therion lets his hand slip out from under his shroud.  In it is a pretty, opalescent broach.  A teardrop of blue stone peeks out from the middle of the lighter rock, polished to a brilliant sheen.  “Thanks for the souvenir, _Ophilia_.”  He pockets the trinket.  It’ll fetch him a few leaves from the right buyer.   
  
  
  
Therion had planned to slip out of town quietly, but apparently it just wasn’t in his stars.  When he’s almost to the gate he ends up with another unwelcome reunion—Cordelia Ravus herself.  And her damn butler to boot.  Somehow, as humiliating as their last encounter was, this ends up being even worse.  It was one thing to be duped and collared, but why did she have to come out there and see him off like they were old pals or something?  With her meek little “Mister Therion”…  And acting like he was doing them some sort of favor, rather than carrying out his end of the bargain….

  
Why did she have to be so damn gracious about the whole thing?  All he wants to do is be properly angry at her for roping him into this mission, but it’s impossible to without feeling dirty when she sends him off with all the well-wishes.   
  
At the very least, the two had a destination for him.  It’s a relief to know where he is heading, if nothing else.  Once he passes the perimeter of Bolderfall, the thief’s mood starts to lighten.  Now he can be blissfully alone with his thoughts for a while.    
  
Well…  almost.  
  
He continues down the road, listening for a while until he comes to the canyon pass bridge and senses he can go no further.   
  
The thief looses a sigh.  “Now then…  this routine is getting old.  Show yourselves.”  
  
At first all is quiet, save for the low howl of the wind through the pass.  But dimly, a shuffling starts from the thickets lining the path behind him.  Two figures emerge—none other than the thieves from town.  
  
“So…  ye figured us out again, ay?”  The one in the red bandana comes out and sneers at him.  “You’re a sharp one alroight…  it’s no wonder a thief like you managed to break into the Ravus manor.  Now tell us…  how does that treasure feel?  It must be difficult walking around with it weighing you down.  Perhaps _now_ you’ll be more willing to allow us to help you carry it?”  
  
Therion plants himself in an offensive stance, drawing his dagger.  “You should have learned your lesson before not to mess with me.”  He doesn’t bother trying to convince him that there was no treasure.  Not like they’d believe him anyway  
  
“Oooh we did mate,” his friend chimes in.  “We knew better than to come alone.”  
  
Now there are footsteps from behind, back towards the bridge, but at this point he isn’t surprised.  Clever them.  They set up this ambush well in advance.  Three more bandits close off his northern escape route, cutting him off from the rest of the pass and the bridge.   
  
“This is what ye get for looking down on us.  Too good for partners, ay?  I wonder if ye’ll be singing a different tune once you’re our pincushion!”  
  
“Heheh.  Roight.  If you know what’s good for ya, you’ll hand us over all that treasure now.  Then maybe we’ll take it a bit easy on ya.”   
  
“Fat chance,”  But this is a predicament.  Outnumbered five to one.  Therion weighs his odds as they slowly close in.  As good a fighter he might be, he doesn’t kid himself thinking that he’d make it out of the confrontation in good shape.  The canyon wall hems him in on one side.  There’s no chance he could scale high enough before they tore him back off of the rock.  And on the other side…  a sheer drop.   
  
_So be it, then._   He squares himself up and draws on his inner reserves, fair hair rustling like dry leaves in the wind as the magic courses through him.  He can’t blast them all, but maybe if he can shock them enough to break through the ranks….  
  
Even as he thinks it, the air around them all shimmers strangely.  Therion himself falters as the strange light grows suddenly brighter in a blinding flash.   
  
“Gah!”  The bandits around him cry out.  Some supernatural force narrowly whips past him and sends his attackers reeling back.   
  
“Over here!  Hurry!!!”    
  
That voice.  Though too many spots dance in front of his eyes for him to see properly, Therion recognizes the cleric and what must have just happened.  She is standing on the other side of the bridge, waving her staff at him.   
  
Quickly, he bursts through the stunned bandit ranks, taking off at a full dash and peeling off the main road over the rickety wood planks.  Unwanted savior or no, she has the right idea.  If he can get across the narrow bridge, his attackers will only be able to come at him single file.  And from unstable footing.  Cutting them down will be a whole lot easier.  
  
Unfortunately, they are quick to reach the same conclusion.  Albeit a bit more literally.   
  
Angry shouts rise up from behind him, but don’t follow over the gorge.  The clerics cries for him ahead turn into a shrill gasp.  Then the bridge lurches violently to one side.  Therion’s feet slide over the sideways planks, barely getting any traction as he closes the last few yards of his bull rush.   
  
“ _No….  NO…!!”_  
  
He pushes his legs as hard as he can but the supports underneath suck his force down like mud.  Therion’s widened eyes meet Ophilia’s own horror-filled ones as the tension in the other support cable snaps loose.   
  
And the maw of the canyon opens up beneath him.   
  
As the familiar death grip of gravity takes hold, Therion stretches his hand desperately towards the canyon edge.  So close.  Just an arm’s length away.  
  
It might as well be a mile.  The last of his momentum doesn’t carry far enough.  He sinks fast past the lip of the canyon, vicelike terror seizing his chest.  It quells the scream he wants to let loose, knowing all too well what waits for him at the end of the plummet.  With nothing else to do, he squeezes his eyes shut and waits for the pain.  
  
His wrist snaps from out in front of him, and the next moment rock hits Therion hard in the face, scraping his nose.  But that’s it.  No splatter.  No crunch of bones.  His eyes fly back open to see what he’s caught hold of.   
  
Just above, Ophilia grunts hard, straining as she barely manages to cling to the bridge post above him.  Before he fell out of range she managed to reach out to him with the tip of her staff.  “H…hold on!”  The cleric draws ragged breaths as she struggles against his weight, trying desperately to heave him higher.  But Therion is quick to find another crevice and foothold to dig into to take his weight off her.  With effort they manage to drag him back up over the ledge.  Angry jeers echo off the cliff face behind them.  The party of thieves spitefully hurls a few rocks.  One glances off Therion’s back.   
  
“This isn’t the end! We’ll have ye yet, bastard!  C’mon boys!”  The troupe hurries back towards Bolderfall, but the next pass is a good day away.  By that time, he’ll be long gone.    
  
Both Therion and Ophilia puff and pant once he’s back up on solid ground.   
  
“Are…  are you alright?” she places a hand on his back.  He is quick to shrug out from underneath it.   
  
“Fine…  thanks,” he gruffs, less-than-warm.  A lot less than she deserves after saving him.  “You didn’t have to do that…  I could have handled them on my own.”  He lies.   
  
“Nonsense…  I wasn’t just going to stand by while you were attacked…”  Ophilia sits back on her knees while he too pulls himself into a sitting position.   
  
“How did you get here anyway?”  Last he knew he was leaving her behind in town.  When did she slip past him?  
  
“Well…  I went to the gate like you said to try my luck.  When I got there, I saw you.  You were speaking to another woman and an older man.  It seemed like an important conversation, so I didn’t want to interrupt….  I just kept going and…  well…  I guess I decided it was more important to keep moving than wait to find someone who would travel with me.”  
  
He nods slightly.  He did have his attention more fixed on Cordelia and that butler at the time.  
  
“Then when I got down the road…”  She continues on, “I saw those three men near the bridge, talking.  They let me pass, but…  something about them just made me nervous.  So when I got to the other side, I hid and watched them.  And not too long after that, they hid too when they saw you coming down the path.  That’s when I realized what was going to happen.”  
  
“I see…”  
  
“I’m sorry…  I should have called out to you earlier.”  
  
Therion shakes his head and stands back up.  “It’s fine.  Anyway, I’ve got to be on my way.”   
  
“Wait…”  Ophilia mewls.  Just like that?  
  
But he doesn’t get far.  As soon as Therion turns back north he grinds to a halt.  A dead end.  He forgot…  the cliffs edge steeply in towards the gorge on this side of the pass.  There’s a ledge that leads down to a slanted path barely a shoulder breadth across that can make the traverse back into the forest lands, but it stays that narrow for miles.  And one misstep…  
  
He sighs.  It’s going to be a long backtrack to get to Noblecourt now.  
  
The clergywoman notices his dilemma.  She offers a shaky chuckle.  “I guess we’re headed in the same direction now…?”  
  
“….Where’d you say you were headed again?”  
“Saintsbridge.  It’s down in the riverlands, past—”  
  
“I know where it is,” Therion cuts across impatiently.  “If I’m going to get back on the other side of the gorge I’m going to have to go to the southern pass.”  Incidentally, where those thieves he pissed off are planning to catch back up with him.  “Seeing as we’re headed in the same direction for now, I _guess_ I’ll let you tag along.”  
  
“Oh, wonderful!”  A big smile spreads across her face as she stands back up too.  “Thank you!”  
  
“Yeah yeah.  But just until out paths split.  After that you’re on your own again.”  In truth…  she’ll probably be more useful to him than the other way around.  If they meet more trouble, that light magic she used will give him just the edge he needs to even the odds.  “Let’s move…”  
  
He starts down the road without looking back to see if she’s following.  That close call from earlier still has his heart pounding a little too hard behind his ribcage.  That could have been bad.  He’s lucky to still be breathing right now, loathe as he is to admit it.   
  
_Gotta be more vigilant…_   That’s two major screw ups in two days.  If he keeps going at this rate…  
  
_Well, I’m not going to.  It’s full caution from here on out._   No more surprises.   
  
Ophilia’s footsteps quickly catch up behind him.  “So…  Mister Therion—”  
  
“Just Therion,” He cuts across her.  After the way Lady Ravus called him that earlier, it puts a bad taste in his mouth.   
  
“Okay…  Therion…  so, where are you headed?”  
  
He doesn’t answer.  Ophilia waits a bit past the point of being polite before she realizes he doesn’t have any intention to say.  “U…um…  do you not know?”  
  
“I do know.  It’s just not any of your business.”  
  
The girl at his side frowns but doesn’t pry any more.  “Forgive me…”   
  
She tries to initiate conversation with him a few more times as they traverse the canyon road but quickly learns that he has no interest in talking.  He tells her as much.  So, after a while, they lapse into an uncomfortable silence.  The more time she spends with him, the more disheartening Therion’s attitude towards her grows.  Ophilia finds herself thinking that maybe she really would have been better just travelling alone.  He is nothing like the kind people she knew in Flamesgrace.  Even after she saved him she still gets the cold shoulder treatment.   
  
The sun beats down on them during the day.  Therion is accustomed to it but it gives Ophilia some trouble.  She is relieved when at last the shadows start to grow long again, but the evening brings a sharp chill.  She stops briefly to retrieve her cloak from her pack while the setting sun paints the valley red.  Her companion doesn’t even pause to wait for her, but she quickly tugs it around her shoulders and catches up to him.  When she gets back to his side he notices that she clutches the material over her shoulders with her fist.  Ah…  that’s right.  She spies him watching and grins ruefully.  “I lost my fastener.”  
  
“…….”  
  
He rifles through his pocket until he finds the stolen trinket and hands it over to her.  “This it?”  
  
“My broach!”  Ophilia brightens immediately and accepts it back.  “Oh, thank you!  I thought it was lost for good…”  She attaches it back to the hems of her cape and adjusts it with a fond look in her eye.  “My sister gave it to me.  How can I ever repay you?”   
  
Therion snorts.  Such heartfelt gratitude for the guy that robbed her in the first place.  What a moron.  “Just consider us even for earlier.”  He wouldn’t feel right keeping it anyway after what happened.   
  
She brightens back up considerably after the return of her keepsake and apparently takes it to mean the silence between them is broken because pretty soon afterwards she starts gabbing about whatever comes to mind.  For his part, he lets her since she seems content just to let her thoughts spill without expecting his input.  Therion just keeps his eyes on the road ahead, watchful for any more bandits or monsters that might try to sneak up on him.   
  
_“What a lovely sunset…”_  

The thief freezes, breath hitching in his chest.  He wheels on Ophilia, but she isn’t looking at him, gaze turned westward to the fiery glow.  The road has taken them up higher, above most of the valley as they near the southern pass.  _That’s right….  It wasn’t far from here…._  
  
While her eyes stay glued on the vibrant evening hues, his own narrow as they focus on her.   
  
_“What a lovely sunset tha’ is…”_   a different voice booms from his memory. 

  
That’s right…  whatever dangers the valley and Orsterra at large might hold, the greatest threat is still the closest one.  She acts innocent enough, but who knows what agendas this girl could have?  She’s still just a stranger to him.  Looking for someone to help ensure her passage, or so she says.  She’ll use him, and he’ll use her as long as it’s convenient.  But in the meantime, he’ll keep his guard up.  Just in case.   
  
Trust someone, and they _will_ betray you… 

It’s only a matter of time. 

* * *

 

##  **End of Chapter**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Chapter Note:**   I know the Northern Bolderfall pass bridge isn’t a rickety rope one, but shhhh.  They ah…  they built that after this.  It breaking was a good excuse for a construction improvement.  Fight me. 
> 
>  **Author’s Notes:**  
>  I’ve started playing Octopath Traveler in earnest and spoiled myself on a lot of the later chapters.  With Therion’s and Ophilia’s stories specifically.  And can I just say…  good god.  Their backstories and themes play off each other so well.  Now I really want to write more of this because I KNOW Therion with his Darius baggage would have a lot to say about a certain fallout in her arc.  They are so great because they are really two sides of the same coin.  They both lost everything to tragic childhoods.  Ophilia got taken in by a wonderful family that helped her to heal, trust, and love again.  And Therion…  I’d say he didn’t get that, but understatement of the year, right?  He must have wanted it so badly though from how quickly he latched on to Darius.  And what an enormous cluster that turned out to be.   
>   
> So yeah, I am so weak for their dynamic of warm Ophilia and the rest of the group of eight coaxing him into lowering his walls and trusting again.  And on the flip side, he and the others do their best to protect her from a world full of people with motives that she’s just too kind and trusting to suspect.   
>   
> And one last note ( **MAJOR SPOILERS, DON’T READ IF YOU DON’T WANT TO BE SPOILED** ): I feel so vindicated after watching the Chapter 3 flashback because here I was planning on dropping/nearly dropping this boy off of things even before I knew they had the same idea.  GOOD JOB whoever at Square Enix thought that up, I’m DEFINITELY not CRYING thinking about a certain someone waking up in PAIN, cold and ALONE, body SHATTERED, probably STARVING, almost too weak to MOVE, realizing NO ONE is COMING, dragging himself back to town CRUSTED in his own BLOOD, BEGGING for SCRAPS to get by while he recovered, all while the thought FESTERED in his head, “Trust no one, **_never again_**.”


End file.
